


if i had nowhere else to go (could i count on you?)

by ceo_of_lonely



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Minor Injuries, Period-Typical Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:47:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27360700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceo_of_lonely/pseuds/ceo_of_lonely
Summary: harley knocks on peter's dorm room at 1 am, drenched, beaten, and exhausted...or, parkner 50s AU.
Relationships: Harley Keener/Peter Parker
Comments: 5
Kudos: 140





	if i had nowhere else to go (could i count on you?)

**Author's Note:**

> TW: homophobia

The words printed into Peter's textbook were beginning to blur and swirl into lines of messy ink by the time 1 AM rolled around. Ned had fallen asleep nearly two hours ago, insisting he couldn't stay up later or he'd be too tired for his Physics final the next day, while MJ had stayed up, studying in her own corner, both in absolute, concentrated silence until she got up and collapsed onto her bed twenty minutes prior.

Peter tossed his pen down and leaned back into his chair, rubbing his eyes in frustration. He had a final in three days, he could _not_ risk failing. His bed, still messily made from his frantic morning trying not to be late to class, sat beside his desk, practically taunting him, calling out for him, the pillow looking fluffier and the blankets looking warmer than they had looked a few hours prior. His eyes drooped, but he was snapped out of his trance when he heard a weak knock at the door. He glanced at the clock hanging from the opposite wall from him, eyebrows furrowing at the sight.

**1:06 AM.**

He pushed himself to his feet and walked over to the door, rolling his eyes. Who the hell would knock at 1 in the morning and on a Wednesday? He racked his brain for any ideas. He didn't recall there being any parties today, and he was sure there had been no one left in the main building when he had left. 

He certainly wasn't expecting to see Harley Keener standing on the other side.

And he certainly wasn't expecting to see his face bloody and bruised and his hair and clothes soaked from the rainfall.

"Harley?"

"Hey, darlin'," the blonde replied quietly, attempting to send the shorter boy a sly smile, only to pull at his split lip and reveal his blood-splattered teeth. His black leather jacket was covered in droplets of heavy raindrops, and his white shirt underneath was completely soaked through and stained with blood at the top. His jeans were muddy and looked like they had just been taken out of the washing machine with how wet they were. Peter didn't ignore the way Harley was clearly trying to stifle shivers.

"Oh, my God, Harls, come in, come in." Peter stepped to the side, signaling for the sophomore make his way inside. He immediately shoved the initial panic that had found its way into his gut away and ran to the bathroom to grab the first-aid kit. When he returned, he saw Harley standing in the center or the room, arms wrapped around himself, eyeing the wet patch of carpet under his feet in guilt.

"Harley, sit down," Peter ordered.

"I don't wanna get anything wet..." Harley replied, glancing over at his bed.

"It'll dry, just sit." Peter pointed at the bed, where Harley shyly sat at the foot of the mattress.

Peter had never seen him like this. Usually, he was cocky. Flirty. Confident. Too smart for his own good. Not quite rude or unlikeable, but teetering on the line bewteen friendly and unfriendly. But now, he seemed so _small_. Broken down to his core to reveal the shy, polite, softer version of himself. He looked ashamed, almost, of having to crash at someone else's dorm to ask for help, of having to show this side of himself.

Peter took a seat beside him and opened the small white box sitting on his lap. He'd also brought a damp washcloth. He cupped Harley's jaw with a hand and began wiping away the excess blood on Harley's freckled face.

"What happened?" Peter asked tentatively, stopping for a moment to look into blue eyes. Harley looked away. Peter continued and pulled out some small band-aids.

"Just came across some assholes, nothing to worry about," the blonde muttered, eyes shifting into a blank, icy stare for a moment before disappearing in a heartbeat. Peter murmured a quiet "sorry" when Harley winced at the contact of the bandaid against his injured skin.

"Clearly, it _is_ something to worry about, Harls," Peter said. "Could you get a good look at their faces? We could get them expelled, you know." Harley shook his head as Peter inspected his injuries. Other than a split lip, a bleeding nose -that didn't look broken, thank god- and a bruise blossoming across his cheekbone, he looked overall alright. Now, with all of the blood out of the way, Peter's anxiety faded. Not completely, though, knowing that the dickheads who did this were still out there, probably laughing their asses off.

"Hey, Pete, really, I'm fine, I just- I didn't know where else to go, it's not that big a deal," Harley said, sensing Peter's sudden change in demeanour. Peter's breathing stuttered when he turned his gaze back to meet Harley's and noticed how close they were, breaths mingling and noses nearly touching.

"But-"

"Peter, really. It was about time I stumbled across some homophobes, that shit happens and there's nothing anyone can do about it."

"Yes, there is- Wait, _homophobes_?"

Harley's face dropped. He swiftly got to his feet, fear lacing the blue in his eyes.

"You didn't know-? I'm sorry, I should've told you, I don't know if you're comfortable with that stuff- it's okay if you aren't- I- uh... I'll just leave-" he stuttered, sowly backing towards the door. Peter shot up.

"Harley! Wait- calm down, I don't mind, really. It's ok," he said, pushing away the sudden urge to cup Harley's cheek. The blonde's shoulders fell, a relieved breath escaping his lips.

"Oh, okay. Cool."

"Yeah. Cool."

Silence filled the room.

Peter cleared his throat.

"Um," he said awkwardly. "If you don't mind me asking... How did you... Know? Like, for sure?"

A ghost of a smile touched Harley's lips. "Well... There's this boy," he started, the expression in his eyes unreadable. "He's short, dark-haired, a freshman... You might know him- oh, he's also a complete dork." Peter parted his lips but Harley continued, taking a step closer. "He just... Gets me, y'know? In a way no one else ever has. And- and he makes me feel special, for once. I don't think anyone else other than my momma has made me feel special." Peter's heart skipped a beat as he felt Harley's breath against his lips.

"Why do you ask?" He asked. Peter swallowed thickly.

"Well, because I seem to be in the same situation as you, Keener. And this boy - _Harley_ , you know him-?" Harley grinned, that oh-so familiar glint in his eye returning. 

"Possibly."

"Well, he's a really great guy, and I think he surrounds himself with the wrong people to prove something. I just need to find out what he's hiding."

Then, Harley's lips were on his.

It was quick and hungry and full of emotion, yet it was chaste. Harley settled his hands on Peter's cheeks and the latter wrapped his arms around the taller boy's neck. The feeling of Harley's lips dancing across his own made Peter's knees go weak. 

When they finally pulled apart, cheeks flushed and out of breath, they grinned. Peter took Harley's hand and intertwined their fingers before pulling him towards his bed. He pushed Harley onto it and held his palm out. 

"Wait here." He walked over to his closet and grabbed the largest pajama pants he had along with the MIT sweater that was a tad too big on him. He tossed them over to Harley.

Fifteen minutes later, with Harley's head resting on Peter's shoulder, legs tangled under the covers, and the lights turned off, Peter let himself fall asleep for the first time in days.


End file.
